


Indulgence

by tetsurashian



Series: Indulgence [1]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Masturbation, Somnophilia, slight re:connect spoilers, tagged as non-con just to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:38:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsurashian/pseuds/tetsurashian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip is young, and can’t help himself. Fortunately, Virus is a heavy sleeper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> Veeeerryyyy self-indulgent. My file name for this is literally 'self indulgent vitri fic.' And then I go and title it Indulgence haha. I’m a bit embarrassed about it, now that I’m posting it. I don’t write smut that often either, so. I really just wanted some vitri and this is what came out of it.
> 
> As usual, Unbeta'd. Should probably get a beta.

He learns early on that Virus is a heavy sleeper.

Trip is a bit surprised at the fact - Virus looks like the type who is aware of everything asleep as he is awake. Then again, even he would probably allow himself some time to ease off his annoyingly keen senses.

But whatever, other than having to bang on Virus’s bedroom door to wake him up every morning, it’s really none of Trip’s business. That’s what he thinks, at least, until he actually catches sight of Virus’s sleeping face.

He’s fourteen, of course he’s touched himself before. But unlike most boys his age, he doesn’t imagine anyone in particular when he indulges in the act. Everyone looks the same to him anyways, wearing mockeries of human features and looking more like monsters than anything else. Everyone except Virus, who was like a tranquil spot of light in a chaotic sea of muddy, dirty faces the first time they met. 

And so for the first time, Trip pictures Virus as he strokes himself with still awkward, still growing hands. The quirk of his lips when he’s feels particularly smug or accomplished, the pleased smile that forms when things go accordingly, even the damp, half-naked, and fresh out of the shower body Trip was able to get a glimpse at once before - they flicker through his mind in snapshots. He didn’t think so before, but Virus, admittedly, had a rather pretty face. Still, while those imagesurge him on a little more, it’s the memory of Virus sleeping that uncoils something in him and makes him come harder than he has before.

 

“You look more relaxed than usual,” Virus comments the next morning over his cup of coffee. Trip merely shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Had a good night’s sleep, I guess.”

 

Virus still treats him as a kid sometimes, never mind that Trip is now as big as he is, and will most likely outgrow him, too. It doesn’t bother him, not really, even when he catches Virus’s humoring expression aimed at him. Not when he continues to fuck his hand in the darkness of his own room, sometimes imagining it’s Virus’s mouth wrapped around his dick rather than his own palm and fingers. He can’t help but feel a sense of perverse glee at masturbating over an older man people are more inclined to believe as his brother or even twin. Not even Sly Blue - Aoba, that is - with his breathtakingly psychotic expressions was able to stir him up more than Virus can, with his eyes closed and face utterly relaxed and his lips barely parted -

Before he knew it, it’s been over a year since he last saw Virus’s sleeping face. He realizes that his one memory of it has become so overused he’s starting to forget the little details, and it’s that which drives Trip to do what he does next.

Except for that one time Trip had caught him sleeping on their couch, Virus really doesn’t sleep outside of the comforts of his personal bedroom. Whether it’s a matter of self-awareness or refusal to be so openly vulnerable, he doesn’t exactly know. What he does know, however, is how to unlock Virus’s door from the outside, and if the older man can sleep through five minutes of Trip persistently knocking on his door, then he can definitely sleep through a second of the door creaking open and clicking shut.

Trip only means to drink in his fill of Virus’s face before slipping back out and finishing off on his own bed for decency’s sake. But decency gets thrown out the window the minute he steps close to the sleeping figure lying still on his back on the bed, and he pulls his cock out of his boxers and sweatpants and starts jacking off with less than a foot of a distance between the leaking tip of his cock and Virus’s goddamn face.

“Fuck,” he hisses quietly as he catches the spurt of cum with the palm of his hand. He quickly glances back to Virus in case he shows any sign of waking up, and finding none, quickly shuffles out and goes straight to the bathroom. 

One week later, he does it again. A week after that, again. Again, and again, and again.

 

“Hmm,” Virus frowns at a freshly laundered pillowcase. “Is it just me, or is there an off-colored spot right around here?” He asks, showing Trip the pillowcase.

He stares at it for a long while before giving a quiet snort, “I think it’s time to get your glasses checked. There’s nothing.”

Virus raises an eyebrow at him, before quirking an amused smile. “It could be argued that you’re the one who needs their eyes checked.”

Not really, Trip thinks, because he can still clearly see the faint outline of the cum stain he accidentally left during his most recent late night visit. He’s just not about to say it.

 

His sixteenth birthday passes without much fanfare, and the only notable thing is that he’s officially a centimeter and a half taller and a size bigger than Virus by then. If Virus is in any way irked by that fact, he doesn’t show it.

Trip tries to minimize his late night visits to Virus’s room, but it only makes him want to go further and take more than he’s allowed to the times he does visit. He learns to curb his urges, but in the end he’s young and can’t help himself anymore.

Which is why one evening he finds himself palming a pill in his pants pocket and waiting for the time Virus usually drinks his after-dinner tea. (On weekends he drinks the red wine he’s developed a taste for, and while the dealer said that the drug was still perfectly potent and safe with alcohol, Trip wasn’t about to take the word of a back-alley bastard like him.)

He makes the tea himself, slipping the pill and letting it dissolve before taking it to Virus, who is going through the emails in his coil. Virus slowly moves his gaze from the screen to the teacup to Trip himself, a rather disbelieving and suspicious look on his face. Trip doesn’t blame him, because he’s never bothered making a drink for Virus and there’s no reason for him to start now.

“Is there an occasion I don’t know about?” Virus lightly asks, his eyes searching, “Or am I about to hear something unpleasant?”

“Just thought I’d do something nice for once,” Trip says just as lightly, “is that bad?”

The older man stares at him for a long moment, but Trip holds his ground as best as he can. Virus’s eyes suddenly turn amused and with a hint of knowing that would make anyone falter. Trip does, if only for a moment.

“Very well,” Virus says with a pleasant smile, “I suppose I can indulge you tonight.” And drinks the tea.

And while he’s not the one drinking the laced tea, Trip still feels like he’s been well and truly played.

The drug is guaranteed to work four hours after it’s taken for an hour, making the drugged dead asleep and unwakeable. Not that Trip can see any visible change on Virus that night, seeing as he was such a heavy sleeper already. But the drug was… insurance, because he planned to go a little farther than his usual fare.

The bed’s soft creaks are loud in the quiet room as he moves onto the bed and on top of Virus, pausing for a moment just in case, despite the guarantee that he wasn’t about to wake up. It’s a new view, different from looking down from where he stood beside the bed like before, and it’s more than a little bit exciting. 

Virus’s neck is cool and smooth under his palm, and Trip slides his hand down to trace his collarbone and stroke his sternum. The buttons of his pajama top are undone easily enough, and Trip reflexively licks his lips at the sight of the newly exposed skin. He feels the urge to bite, to break the skin and see blood well up, but catches himself because he’s not supposed to - not allowed to - leave marks. 

The nipples harden under the pads of his fingers and he feels the firm planes of Virus’s lean body with growing excitement. He stops his hands at the hipbones, just above the waistband of the pajama bottoms, and thinks hard if he should dare. He decides no, he shouldn’t, not this time, because he’s rather sure he won’t be able to keep himself from burying his cock into Virus’s ass, screw the consequences. Just the thought of it is making his teenage hormones go haywire, and he finally frees his hardening cock .

As he leisurely strokes himself, Trip stares at the way Virus’s chest would rise and fall as he continued to breathe deeply in his sleep, the way he tilts his head slightly to face the right and exposes his pale throat. One of Virus’s hands moves and on impulse, Trip grabs it and ignores the small, reflexive frown that appears on Virus’s face at the action. Instead, he makes the hand fist his cock and fucks it with slow thrusts. Something about it makes it feel different from his own hand and it spurs him on, but Trip catches himself before he could come close. There’s one thing he’s determined to do, ever since he decided to do this.

He moves forward, going up the sleeping body until his crotch is practically over the Virus’s face, and he licks his lips in anticipation. Forcing his mouth open, Trip holds the sides of Virus’s jaws firmly to keep it that way as he slips his hard cock past the open lips and into the unresisting mouth. It’s wet and warm and feels so, so good as he gently fucks Virus’s mouth and pushes his cock down as deep as he dares. He stares down to watch his dick go in and out of the hole and watches as Virus’s eyebrows start to furrow and face tighten in discomfort even as he continues to sleep deeply. And for the first time that night, he hears him make involuntary, delicious noises that don’t do anything else but encourage him. 

Trip is so, so close, but he avoids coming in Virus’s mouth, if only in respect (which, considering all the things he’s done already, is bare minimal at this point). However, he can’t help but come all over his face, streaking his swollen lips, smooth cheeks, closed eyelids, and even some of his hair with white. 

Before his hour is up, he cleans Virus’s face, buttons up his shirt, and pulls the bedsheet over him again and makes it as if he was never even there. 

 

“When you turn eighteen,” Virus says as he reads the morning news on his coil, hot cup of coffee in his hand, “you can stop sneaking in and just ask.” 

Trip stills and doesn’t look up from his breakfast.

“And next time,” Virus continues, sounding very amused and very dangerous, “try not to get any on my hair.”


End file.
